The Forbidden Mushroom of Misfortune (second)

This is not a book, and it's not a short story so I'm posting it a little at a time to make it easier to read.

PUTTING THINGS IN MOTION

 

 

The wedding took place five days later, the bride looking beautiful, the groom looking handsome, and a forest manor out of town was constructed to suit their needs.  A place in the wilderness, a spouse to love, enough money to buy the Devil’s soul, what more could they possibly hope for?.. other than each other’s immediate demise.   

            Despite of, or rather because of, their marriage, Penelope and Phillip’s hatred for each other flourished.  When they were together, they could do nothing but complain, insult, yell, scream, bite, scratch, slap, and punch.  Because of this, each had their own sleeping quarters, they ate at separate times, and one always tried to be in town when the other was home.   

            Although they worked on this careful avoidance of each other, it was inevitable that they would meet during the day, and the arguing and fighting would begin again.  Things couldn’t have possibly gotten any worse... except that a town picnic was called.

            Everyone attended the town picnic, even the new couple who had mysteriously come into town from Wadsupia, the territory of the People of Mad.  Nobody knew this but the Forbidden Mushroom itself.   

 

Of course Penelope and Phillip had to go so everyone would see how the two were doing together.  Everyone knew that they hated each other, and no one ever saw them but separately.  Grumbling heavily about their having to be less than one hundred paces from each other, the young couple took on a candy-coated-hot-pepper disposition so as not to embarrass their respective honorable families.  

            Finally, Penelope couldn’t take the pleasantries any longer, so in the middle of the festivities yanked Phillip’s arm and dragged him behind a tree.

            I can’t stand this!” she spat, “If I stay near you another minute I’ll throw up!”

            “Just don’t do it on me.  Or better yet, I could save you the trouble and strangle you...”

            “You wouldn’t be so kind.  We have to find a way to separate, you’re impossible to talk to people with!  You interrupt all the-“

            “Interrupt?” Philip exclaimed incredulously.  “I have to interrupt or you won’t let me get a word in edgewise!”

            “I don’t let you talk because everything you say is pointless and idiotic!”

            “Oh, and asking the Mayor whether his daughter was able to actually choose a husband for herself from the available men in Luckawry wasn’t-”

            “I was making a point about letting a girl marry something more than a dung beetle that had just crawled out from under the Forbidden Mushroom of Misfortune!..”

            Nothing could make Penelope and Phillip get along, not the public, not the money, it seemed only a complete catastrophe would pull the two together.  Or a miracle.  Or both.  Very soon.

 

            Suddenly a scream rang out across the field of picnickers!  The Shoemaker’s wife was spotted running from town, yelling about some argument and a knife, and... a murder!  She told her story to the first person she came to, then fainted.  The Wine Merchant had heard her and repeated what she’d told him:

            “The Baker has bitten the Mushroom of Misfortune!  The Shoemaker’s wife heard a couple fighting behind the bakery and heard the Baker’s voice tell them to get along and be quiet, and when she went back there to see who it was, only the Baker was there, lying in a pool of blood with a knife in his belly!”

            Penelope and Phillip had stepped from behind the tree to hear the news, and were even able to forget about their fight due to the tragedy.  Everyone was stunned.   

            After the initial respectful silence, a general mumbling, milling-about began.  Minds began working on suspects, motives, the possibility of an accident... but eventually everyone started to come to the same conclusion:  Who’s names usually came up when the word “argument” was involved?  Who seemed to never get along?  Luckawry knew Penelope and Phillip well enough to fit them into this unfortunate scenario.  Each of them had always had a murderous temper, especially when it came to opinions about each other.  Why should it change now?   

 

Why indeed.

 

It’s at a time like this when one would wonder where the couple from Wadsupia, the People of Mad, had disappeared to.

 

 

INITIATE THE PLAN

 

“Do you realized what is happening here?”  Penelope gasped the next day, returning from the market.  “It was obvious!  Everyone kept glaring at me!  Whispering, cringing, pointing, and you should have seen the look of fear on the Baker’s wife when she saw me!”

“So what’s new?”  Penelope smacked Phillip with the paper-wrapped fish.   

            “I am talking about our being accused of murdering the Baker!”  She was thinking desperately of how to pin this whole misunderstanding on Phillip.  Ultimately, however, she realized there was no way she wouldn’t be accused, too.  

            The incident having been a whole fourteen hours past, everyone was now thoroughly convinced that the “arguing couple” had been these two.  No actions had been made to confront these spawn of the town’s high-class, which gave Penelope and Phillip some time to grasp the fact, panic due to lack of tact, blame each other, then come to some sort of solution... theoretically.

            “So what’s gonna happen?” Phillip paced in a thought-provoking circle.  “We can’t let them hang us for something we didn’t do!  If we run we’ll look guilty, if we simply deny we did it they’ll still find us guilty...”

            “Because no one saw us hiding behind that tree...”

            “Which, by the way, you dragged us behind.  And if we admit we did it, even for a good, made-up reason, we’ll still be punished.”  Phillip finally sat down, and the two were in the same room momentarily not at each other’s throats.  Each thought in either head eventually came down to desperation and the helpless thought that...

            “Just because they were quarreling doesn’t mean it was us,” Phillip muttered.

            Penelope sighed at Phillip’s defense.  “Yeah, well, you try explaining it to them.  We’ve given them no reason to believe otherwise.”

            The opportunity for explanation presented itself without hesitation.  They heard the angry voices and the rattle of the wagons approaching, and looked out the window briefly before ducking out of sight again.   

 

There was a mob, all of the townsfolk who wanted to punish the quarreling murderers.  There were footsteps clomping up the stairs, and finally it was the knock at the door that made it all real.  The two newlyweds looked at each other with genuine fear.  What could they do?   

The shoemaker’s voice carried sternly through their door.

            “Phillip, we need to talk to you and Penelope.  You’re going to have to come with us.”

            At this point, Penelope cracked.  She backed into a corner of the room, whimpering, eyes wide and darting, and crouched on the floor, hugging her knees.  Phillip was standing just on his side of the door, Penelope’s last words replaying in his head, “...reason to believe otherwise...”

 

            Outside, the Shoemaker stood at the front steps awaiting the couple, the townspeople supporting him morally from the yard.  Curiously, when the door finally opened, Phillip appeared with his arm wrapped gently around Penelope’s waist!  The Shoemaker stared wide-eyed and blinked a moment before resuming his stern face and serious script.

            “Phillip, Penelope, you’ll have to come with us,” he repeated.   

            “Whatever for?”  Phillip put on an innocent face and hugged his wife closer to him.  Yet in shock, Penelope showed no resistance but gazed out at the crowd of people, a pasted smile trying to make everything all right.

            “Well...” The shoemaker looked back at the Tailor who waved him on, “We’ve had a meeting, and it’s unanimous that...”  He took in the sight of the two standing so close, Phillip’s amiable but concerned face, his arm around Penelope, and no tension or glares whatsoever between the two.  “We… uh… believe you to be the arguing couple who killed the Baker.”  

            Phillip laughed in mock disbelief.  “But why?  Did someone see us arguing?  My goodness, honey, we haven’t had a good argument since... since just after we were married!”  He looked at her.  Penelope’s dazed eyes never left the crowd, but she nodded because that seemed like the thing to do.   Phillip looked back at the Shoemaker.  “No, we don’t argue any more.”  He took Penelope’s hand as she managed to widen her nervous smile.  “We’ve learned to love each other.  It’s been a wonderful experience, learning about who she really is, and not hiding my true self any more.”

            The mob was stunned.  A few people turned and whispered to their neighbor, but mostly everyone just stared. The Shoemaker wasn’t sure quite what to make of it.

            “So you... you never fight?”

            “Not since we were married.”  Phillip shrugged and kept his confident grin.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to keep looking for the culprits.”

            The Shoemaker looked once more at the Tailor, unsure.  The Tailor nodded.

            “Just one question,” the Shoemaker shifted his stance, still wary.  “Where were you two when the Baker was murdered?  No one saw you anywhere.”

            Phillip did his best to look embarrassed, and he peered coyly at Penelope.  Her scared gaze met his, though she just barely kept her grin - like someone who’s trying to understand someone else’s inside joke.  He squeezed her close again.   

            “Well... I suppose since you need to know... We- we were behind a tree, off to the side.  We didn’t want to offend anybody with our… shows of affection.  It’s just so hard to keep my composure around this angel!” He gazed at her and traced her cheek with a finger.

            Everyone simply gawked.  Could this be the same Phillip and Penelope?

            “W-well, sorry to have taken up your time, then.” The Shoemaker finally started back toward the people.  Everyone slowly started turning and heading back to town, mumbling, with odd glances at the couple at the door.  The Shoemaker turned for another look, then tried a pleasant smile. “G’afternoon.”

            The show worked!  ... For the moment.

            The townsfolk would need some convincing from then on, however.  They were wary of the unexpected change in plans.  The mystery of the murderer was yet unsolved, and their reality had been suddenly twisted.  The town’s difficult couple seemed to have had an unexpected relational turn for the better.  They’d have to keep an eye on those two.   If Phillip and Penelope could prove that they don’t quarrel anymore, and that there’s no way they would, they would be let off easy.   

            Phillip had sat Penelope down on the sofa and explained the plan for how to save their lives. 

“...So all we have to do is appear loving in front of everyone!”  Phillip finished for his wife, who had come out of her stupor.  She was sulking.  “You’re lucky,” Phillip sighed and stood from their table.  “I’m easy to love.”

            “Maybe in some other Hell!”  Penelope also stood and gripped a fork dangerously.  “I don’t like this... but for my life’s sake I’ll do it.  And I’m not tolerating you more than I have to.”

            “Likewise.”

 

And so it was.

Author's Note

the next will have the same title with (third)